Blood Diamond
by M. the Inspector
Summary: Emma Frost is not nearly as enchanted with her new boss as he seems to think.  Features elaborate villainous death traps, Charles/Erik teamwork, and lots of telepathy.  Fun stuff!
1. Chapter 1

Takes place soon after the end of First Class. Because I don't believe that henchmen can be instantly and willingly transferred from one mastermind to another.

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><p><em>Azazel.<em>

**Aah- what?**

_Don't look at me, you dummy, or he'll know we're talking. Just drive._

**Emma… this is dangerous.**

_He can't overhear anything with that stupid helmet on. He can't even tell I'm projecting._

**All right, well… what do you want?**

_I want to kill him._

**? Now?**

_Now? In a car? Come on. Look, I'm forming a plan, and it's going to end with him dying slowly, painfully, and most important helplessly. I think he'll hate that the most. Anyway… do you want in? No hard feelings if you don't, I'll manage it without you._

**I thought you liked him.**

_He thinks so too. Men are stupid. Mutant men are no exception._

**Emma… Why?**

_Because. Sebastian may have been a terror, but he was my terror. I don't appreciate having him taken from me._

**… ?... Seriously? This is about the end of some star-crossed love affair? Emma that's so… not you. It's sad and pathetic.**

_No, killing myself for some star-crossed love affair would be sad and pathetic. Killing someone else for it is just going to be fun. So: do you want in, or not?_

**Er… I don't want to die.**

_And I do?_

**I just mean… there has to be no chance of it going wrong. None.**

_I hear you. I'm thinking. I'll let you know when I have a more definite idea ironed out. Hah… ironed._

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><p>TBC.<p>

Next chapter we get Magneto in a fantastical and elaborate death-trap. I love villains!

Let me know what you think so far!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I am a sucker for crazy cartoony villains and the overly-complicated execution methods they devise. Emma apparently shares my affinity for such things :o)

Forgive her her enthusiasm.

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><p><em>Hello? Charles the Telepath? Are you listening?<em>

**…Ow…**

_Sorry, at this distance all I can do is shout. It's Emma Frost – you know, the diamond…? Can you hear me?_

**All too well.**

_I have your ex-friend Magneto, Charles, and I'm going to kill him. I know you owe him payback too... want in?_

**Want... what? To kill Erik? Are you out of your mind?**

_Actually... yes I am, doll. I'm in yours. But anyway: come look. I think you'll end up breaking his heart whether you mean to or not, and I want to watch. Come in._

He was forcibly dragged in, flung hard into someone else's mind and in an effort to get his bearings he accidentally opened up the unfamiliar eyes.

It took him a moment to understand what he was seeing – it was dark save for a mess of torches on the wall and candles on the floor. _Wax, wood, and pitch only, _Emma said, her voice echoing strangely now that they were in the same head together. _We've had to go practically back to the Stone Age. Except for that elevator – that's metal all right. Lovely, isn't it?_

Fully overwhelmed, trapped, Charles could do nothing other than ask: **Where is he?**

_There, on the floor. See? Go on, walk._

He realized she was letting him move her body and he did it, stepping uncertainly forward until he could see what lay in the center of the firelight.

Erik, lying spread-eagled, restrained by what looked like leather straps set in concrete. His clothes were torn, and what skin was visible was blood-streaked and shining with sweat. His teeth were bared, his eyes wide, the tendons of his neck popping out as if he were trying to bench press twice his body weight.

_Oh, it's more than that. See? That's an elevator shaft he's lying in._

Charles looked up and saw that an elevator – the cables cut, no doubt – was trembling in the air a few floors' worth above the ground.

_And it's got rocks in it too. Big big rocks. _

Charles was almost too dizzy to keep up the mental connection – he was about to faint. He'd _thought _he was angry at Erik, angry about Shaw and the beach and that bullet, but he was now discovering that even so this was not at all what he wanted. He would _never_ want something like this. "Erik," he whispered.

Erik's head jerked sideways and the elevator plummeted; he caught it within six feet of his body and forced it upward with a long animal growl.

_Don't distract him, stupid. I want this to last. He's tiring so slowly… but he's tiring._

**How did you… why can't he…**

_Azazel. Dropped him in the ocean a few times, dropped him on a heap of rocks. We wore him out but good before we brought him here; I broke a couple of his ribs myself and half-fried his puny little mind as soon as we got the helmet off him._

**Enough. I won't hear this.**

_Yes you will! The whole point of doing it this way is I get to enjoy it. So, let me gloat. Tell me how terrible I'm being. _

Charles tried to keep connected to her without actually listening to the words she was speaking, but it was a miserable failure. _When we strapped him down and dropped the elevator on him he was barely conscious, _she was reporting cheerfully,_ And it was all he could do to hold it up. Sebastian mentioned once he doesn't do well with pain, so as long as we keep cutting him up every few minutes he's not going to manage any tricks. The steel of the building is beyond him for sure; he already stupidly tired himself out trying._

She didn't object when Charles moved her, kneeling her down just outside the danger zone. "Erik, it's me," he said, wincing at the sound of Emma's voice. "It's Charles."

Erik jerked again, caught the load as it faltered, and managed to gasp: "Charles?"

Watching Erik strain and suffer an arm's length away was so terrible that with a surge of force he threw Emma forward all on his own.

Now she too was underneath the death trap, but Charles didn't even think to care; he crawled the rest of the distance and reached out to touch.

Erik cried out, flinching away and nearly crushing both of them as a result.

"No – it's me," Charles insisted. "I only want to help."

The presence of a friend seemed to strengthen Erik; he raised the elevator more smoothly and spoke without even halting its progress. "Well have you got a j-jack?" he grunted. "Or b-better yet a knife, to c-c-cut me loose?"

It was beyond Charles's power to be flip as Erik no doubt would prefer. He just shook his head and whispered, "No."

Erik dared a very quick glance away from his predicament, and registered the stricken look on Emma's hijacked face. "She brought you," he guessed. "To gloat? She must not -_ah-_ kn-know you very well." Sweat was pouring off him as he talked.

Emma bubbled with amusement. _Au contraire, doll. I think I have the both of you judged perfectly. _Charles tried not to waste energy being repulsed by her, and focused instead on what he was doing. Emma's body was unfamiliar and she was not helping him steer it, but with the full force of his concentration he was able to reach out and pick a strand of wet hair out of Erik's eye. "My friend." But that wasn't enough. What he wanted was to help, or at least to offer the wordless and perfect comfort of a hug… but since there was no way he could help and Erik was in no position to be hugged, the best he could do was say instead: "I love you."

The elevator screeched against the walls, came so low Charles could have touched it, but with a guttural roar Erik stopped it in time. "N-n-not now, Charles," he growled after a bit, his whole body tense with effort. Tenser than before, even.

Before Charles could do anything else Emma was jostling him. _All right, that's enough – you're going to get me killed, stupid. Out – move. I'm driving now. Here, while we're here, might as well…_

"No-" he shouted aloud, but he couldn't stop her as she hardened her fingers to diamond.

Since he _couldn't _watch whatever she was about to do, he yanked his mind out of hers. **Erik hang on,** he tried to say, but realized only Emma had heard him.

_He will, _she answered. _Now that he's seen you he'll last longer – suffer longer. And when he finally gives up, it will be even worse. Because now he remembers he had something to lose. Such a sweetheart! Thanks for your help._

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><p>TBC<p>

**Next chapter will be in the form of a mental dialog again. That's actually kind of a fun format to write... even when the subject matter is sort of depressing...**

**Let me know what you think so far!**

**I kind of hope they both survive now; Erik will never let Charles live down having told him he loves him. Even though Charles will swear up and down he didn't mean it _that_ way. **


	3. Chapter 3

A/N:

For some reason, reviews for last chapter aren't showing up when I try to see them, so even though I can see from the review count that people wrote to me, I can't read what you said :o(

So, until that fixes itself, I'll just have to _hope_ you're having fun. I certainly am. Go villains!

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><p><strong>Erik? Erik?<strong>

…?

**Don't try to form words if you can't, just… that's right. I know you can hear me. All right.**

How?

**Cerebro. I know your mind well enough to search for you, and the amplification lets me communicate clearly even over the distance. Is she still near you? I'm afraid she might be able to overhear; she's extraordinarily powerful. I don't know how she was able to reach me when-**

Shutup.

**! Of course of course, sorry. Erik… am I tiring you by talking to you?**

Yes. If you have a plan, tell me quickly.

**How much longer can you hold out?**

Not long. Ah!

**What?**

You're projecting your pain. It hurts.

**Oh- oh I'm so sorry, I'll be more careful.**

And I'm not dead yet. Thanks for the vote of-

… **Erik? …**

Wait. Almost lost it.

**Of course. Say when.**

…

**…**

All right, talk. Plan?

**I was going to ask you the same question. Is she with you?**

Yes but diamond. Can't hear us.

**Ugh – I can't get in her head when she's like that.**

! ! Oh!

**Erik? Erik what happened? Are you all right? ****Erik!**

Almost dropped it. It appears I don't have the energy for hope.

**Hope?**

Yes. Listen: Azazel's here too. You can get inside him. Get him in here. Teleport me out.

**Oh, Erik… I can't, my friend, not at this distance. I'm so sorry. I could only get inside Emma because she invited me, it was more her doing than mine. I could speak to Azazel, as I'm speaking to you… but I couldn't get in and take him over by force.**

…

**Erik?**

Then… what else is there?

**I don't know. But I won't leave you. At least there's that. **

! ! !

**Oh… I felt that.**

Sorry. Spasm. Not much longer, I think. Charles?

**Yes?**

Can you calm my mind for me? I'm afraid. And I'd prefer to die in peace.

…

Ow– stop! Stop! That's not calming; that hurts!

**I'm sorry, it's… it's my emotions again. Hang on. … All right, I'm all right. I'll just-**

!

**What?**

She's coming.

**Why? What is she… **

No NO not again I'll drop it on her this time the bitch I will I swear to God if she touches me again I swear to God I'll drop it I will I swear. Not that it'll kill her, the diamond bitch, but it'll make me smile. Goodbye Charles.

**! Oh- wait– Erik! Plan! Plan! Erik?**

Plan?

**Oh God – I felt that. What is she doing to-**

Plan?

**Yes yes yes. Drop the elevator a bit – suddenly. I'll make contact with Azazel, I'll distract him, I won't let him remember that she's in no danger as a diamond. In fact I'll suggest the opposite if I can. If I can panic him he'll go grab her to teleport her out – and we'll hope he's touching you too. What do you think?**

I think in a moment I'll drop it whether I plan to or not. Go, Charles. We'll try it.

**All right. I'll need a minute to make a connection with him though. Give me a moment before you start.**

I'll give you as long as I can. Won't be much. Go.

**Erik… listen, if it doesn't… I just…**

Not now! Go!

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><p>TBC.<p>

Let me know what you think! Hopefully I'll be able to read it this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is the second update today – I posted this morning too. So make sure you didn't miss that one.**

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><p>Charles took deep breaths. <em>Between serenity and rage <em>was what he needed, and he had absorbed more than enough rage from Erik. He needed to calm down.

He allowed himself enough time to be sure he was ready. Then he reached for Erik's mind, found it easily, and groped for whatever minds were nearby. The solid wall of Emma Frost... and then there he was. A mind canny in general but bored right now, a mutant mind, a mind that was woolgathering and not paying nearly enough attention to detect the peeking of an alien presence.

Yes – Azazel. He looked through Azazel's eyes, saw the elevator shaft and Emma, sparkling, hunched over where Erik would be. He couldn't actually _see _Erik and that was probably a good thing; horrible squawks of pain were coming from him and it would do no good to lose concentration now.

He waited on pins and needles, restless. Some of it must have bled into Azazel; he got up from where he had been sitting and moved a little closer. "Emma, let's finish it. I'm hungry."

She stood, hands on her hips. "What part of _take my time _aren't you understanding?"

Then she turned her attention back to Erik, and Erik roared: "_DIE!"_

The elevator scraped and shrieked as it fell, and Emma just had time to look up with a gasp before it struck her. She was knocked over, landed on all fours with the huge load on her back.

Azazel only stared slack-jawed, and Charles knew that time was short. An awful lot of weight was resting on either the strength of Emma's diamonds, or the last of Erik's determination to stay alive. He wasn't sure which, but neither could hold out very long.

**Quick, help her!** he breathed softly into Azazel's mind. It was a reasonable enough thought; Azazel didn't even recognize it as alien. He shook off his paralysis and _poof_ed himself into the elevator shaft... but the sensation of vicariously teleporting was like licking a battery, and Charles was startled into shouting **OW**.

Azazel froze.

Which, actually, was what they had been hoping for. Erik scrabbled with his fingers but couldn't find flesh... but Azazel's tail was lashing slowly through the air and when Erik arched up he managed to sink his teeth into it.

Charles shouted: **Go, she's breaking! **and again Azazel was startled into responding – he teleported out, taking both Emma and Erik with him.

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><p>Erik was flat on his back, but without that enormous weight bearing down on him he had the curious feeling that he was floating. <strong>Erik get up! Get up!<strong>

He opened his eyes and first saw Azazel, hunched over and covering his ears. But then a growl from beside him reminded him of bigger problems.

Emma. He rolled over to face her – to face his death most probably; he barely had the strength to sit up – but she wasn't even looking at him. "Ugh – ugh it's that-! Ugh!" She was practically incoherent with rage, scrambling to her feet, shimmering and glowing as her diamond form melted away into flesh. "There, this will keep him out, I'll just..."

It occurred to Erik suddenly that while Emma could make fantastic telepathic war in this form, she was now susceptible to other kinds of attacks. Like his kind. After what he had been through he doubted he would be lifting any submarines today, but the falling of the elevator had littered the floor with fragments of metal. Small, loose, and sharp.

Dragging himself up to his knees, lifting both arms in the air, he raised up a storm of shrapnel and threw it with everything he had... but wildly. And with no attempt at all to shield himself.

Metal tore into him in a hundred places. The pain was shocking for a moment but dulled quickly, and the world was going dark, and he just had time to wonder whether he'd got the bitch and Azazel too. Then he lost consciousness.

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><p>TBC.<p>

Eeek! Sorry about the cliffhangers! I'll try to post again tomorrow. Let me know what you think so far...


	5. Chapter 5

_Azazel? Where are you? Where did you go?_

**No.**

_No?_

**No, I'm not coming back. This is between you and him – and that telepath. My head is pounding, my tail is gushing blood and as we speak I'm picking screws and splinters out of my ass. Enough, Emma. I told you I have no intention of dying for this. Let me know when the fighting's over.**

_It __IS __over, stupid. We've won. Magneto's unconscious, and I can block the telepath if he tries you again. Just come back and help me; I'm very badly hurt._

…

_Azazel? Did you hear me? There's no risk – none. Come back. _

…

_Azazel - hello? I'm bleeding too much. You have to come __now__._

…

_Azazel-_

**He can't hear you.**

_Charles?_

**None other, sweetheart. I won't let you call to him.**

_You're not strong enough to block me forever._

**We'll see about that.**

…

**See? I told you: you're not getting through.**

_I'm dying here, Charles. Literally dying. I need help._

**Well, I'm sorry for you, but I'm not letting you call your friends while Erik is lying unconscious.**

_Erik's another one who is literally dying. You'll kill us both if you don't let me call for help._

…

_Didn't you hear me, doll? He's lying in a __pool __of blood. Big enough to splash in, if I could just crawl over there._

… **All right, look: tell me where you are, or at least stop blocking so that I can find you, and then I'll send help. Ambulances. For both of you. **

… _Mmm... No. _

**No?**

_I don't trust you. And I'd rather go knowing I'm taking him with me. So, bye there, sugar. Over and out._

**No! Emma, don't do this, this is stupid, you'll ****die**** for this. Let me help you. Emma? Emma?**

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><p><em>TBC.<em>

Almost done – just one or two more chapters to go.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Wow, a whole 24 hours between updates. I'm getting slow! :o)**

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><p>Erik awoke to the smell of antiseptic and the beeping of machines, and panicked.<p>

But only for a moment. He was somewhere unfamiliar and he hurt too badly to move, but instead of a team of mad doctors standing over him, the only person here was Charles, sound asleep and snoring in a chair by his bed.

He was safe and warm and his ordeal was over. And best yet, he wasn't alone. Eager to share his sudden overpowering good mood, he reached out to jostle Charles by his wristwatch.

He winced – even that small exercise of power hurt. But it was worth it, because Charles opened his eyes and a huge smile lit his face. "Morning. You look like a mummy."

He glanced down at himself and saw more bandages and plasters than he would have thought possible to stick onto one person. "Well, _I_ was just almost tortured to death and then made a pincushion of. _You_ look like a zombie. What's your excuse?"

Charles laughed. "Pure exhaustion." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I broke her, Erik. I broke through Emma Frost's stellar blockade to find out where you people were. And then I… well… after everything else I'd done... I think it was just too much."

"Well done. That and everything. You were fantastic." He was suddenly jealous of Charles's ability to speak from the heart without embarrassment or hesitation. There was so much more he should say, but...

"I'm sensing half-formed wishes from you, my friend," Charles interrupted his thoughts, "Directed at me, but I must admit I am too worn-out to understand them. If you want something you'll have to say it aloud."

"I just wanted to say thank you." He rolled over to his side, very carefully, so that he could look his friend square in the face. "And that I am so, so delighted to see that you're all right."

Charles frowned. "_Me_ all right? _You_ were the one cut to pieces. I never left my house."

"No - I just meant that the last time I saw you, you were flopping around on the ground, shot," he reminded bluntly. "If you'd died, if anything had... Charles, I would never have forgiven myself. I was _terrified_ for you. I couldn't breathe. I pulled the bullet out before you even rolled over, but still..." Charles was looking at him very strangely – and also rummaging around hard inside his mind. "What? What's the matter?"

"You don't know."

"Don't know what?"

Charles bit his lip. "Erik, this is a wheelchair. I'm never going to walk again."

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><p>At first Erik just stared, blank. Then he leveraged himself up on an elbow to peer down at the chair. He looked back and forth from Charles's face to his wheels a few times, and then at last, all of a sudden, crumpled.<p>

Watching him cry wasn't quite enough, so Charles pushed his way into Erik's head to drink the horror and guilt directly from the source. He held eye contact, soaking up whatever he could...

Until he realized, with some surprise, that he wasn't enjoying it.

In fact, it turned out that watching Erik in pain – _putting _Erik in pain – was the absolutely wrong thing to do under the circumstances; five minutes ago he'd been practically giddy with delight and now he felt terrible instead. He shared the thought _Forgive me, I had no idea I was such a sadist,_ and backed out of Erik's mind much more gently than he'd entered. He wiped his own tears away, and just said: "Please don't."

Erik was hiding his face and whimpering brokenly, things like "Charles oh God I never – I _never_..."

As his own voice was not likely to be any steadier, Charles tried projecting instead. _Erik, no – not now,_ he sent firmly._ I'm so glad you're alive this morning, and so proud of how we did it together, so for the moment can we just-_

But then a burst of mental static interrupted their connection.

"Ow." Charles winced and closed his eyes, but before long he had to open them again because clearly Erik needed some help. He was cowering under his pillow, writhing, groaning, and it didn't take Charles long to figure it out. "Is she in your head?"

"Yes- no- I don't know. _God _make it stop – _aah_!"

But before Charles could do anything at all, it stopped on its own. And then started again. This time he managed to peek in, and saw random flashes of light and color, flashes of Shaw with knives and pincers, flashes of Charles himself. "That doesn't feel intentional," he realized when next there was a break. "I think she's drugged or something, and she's attacking you in her sleep. I'll go wake her and calm her down."

Erik was holding onto his head with both hands. "Emma is _here_?"

"I couldn't leave her to die. Be quiet; I need to read a doctor to find out what room she's in."

He concentrated a moment, and when he was done he noticed that Erik was trying to sit up.

"No – lie down! You'll tear out your stitches!"

"How you can even care is beyond me." Erik swiveled slowly to put his feet on the floor. "But in any case, I'm in a hospital. If ever there were a safe place to tear out stitches…" He stood, but only managed half a step before he folded down to the ground. "_Ah- _can't," he gasped. "God, I hurt."

Charles wheeled around him neatly and went for the door… until his chair locked up and started rolling backwards. "Erik! Let go."

"No. Come here." Erik pulled the chair up right in front of him and slowly, laboriously climbed into Charles's lap. "I need a ride. Would you mind?"

"Yes, yes I _would _mind. What you need is to lie down." When Erik paid him no attention, he sighed and clasped his hands behind his head. "Then good luck figuring out which room she's in."

"I am perfectly willing to blow doors open until I find her."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get far." He moved his hands to his temples. "Especially once I alert all the doctors that their severely injured patient is trying to escape."

But then Emma surged again, and Erik covered his ears, and Charles decided that they had no more time to hassle each other. "She's in 403."

Erik moved them down the hall fast. Clearly it cost – he was panting and dripping sweat by the time they reached the staircase…

The staircase. Charles sighed. "These are stairs, my friend. I need an elevator."

"To hell with all elevators. Hang on." He floated them down awkwardly, bumping a few times, and then threw the door open.

This floor was more populated than the one upstairs, but Charles _nudged_ everyone who passed, and nobody noticed them. As they drove by a busy nurses' station Erik chuckled softly and murmured _nice work_. And then there they were. 403.

Erik rose. Carefully. "I should stand."

"It doesn't much matter what you do, my friend – you're not going in there." He raised his voice to drown out Erik's protests. "Despite the stellar rapport you two seem to have built up, I think we'll have better results if talk to her by myself this time."

Erik was clinging to the doorframe in an effort to stand upright. "I'm not leaving you alone with her. You saw what she tried to do – that girl is a menace."

There was a lot Charles wanted to say to him, beginning with _Those who live in glass houses._ The little peeking around he'd managed to do inside Emma – and Shaw – told him what exactly had gotten her so upset. _You butchered someone she loved._

He didn't _say _it, but perhaps he thought it a little more forcefully than he'd meant to – Erik slid down the wall to sit on the floor, and waved the door open without another word.

Charles went in.

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><p>TBC.<p>

We're almost to the end. Let me know what you think! Especially about Erik not having realized what happened to Charles right away. I can't help but think that, as disappointed as he was that their bromance was breaking up, he still would've loaded Charles onto the Azazel Express and tried to get him help if he'd realized how bad off he was. Rather than stranding him on a beach with no vehicle and no teleporter, and no way to block further missiles, surrounded by ships of people who are trying to kill him.

I'm really excited about next chapter, actually. Emma and Charles are torn between wanting to geek out together and wanting to fight, and I'm not sure how they're going to resolve it.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is the **SECOND** update today, so make sure you didn't miss a chapter if you haven't checked since yesterday.

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><p>Even unconscious, in a faded hospital robe, with her hair limp and greasy and sticking to her with sweat… even then Emma Frost was dangerously pretty. It was hard to remember what she could do. What she would have done.<p>

Charles wheeled up close to her and reached out to physically shake her awake, because after the way he'd forced himself on her mind last night he doubted she was in any state to receive telepathy comfortably. "Emma. Wake up."

She gasped and her eyes flew open. "What-"

"Hush, you're safe. You're in a hospital." He backed away to give her space. "Don't try to move."

"A hospital." He could feel her mind working, searching itself for information. "You pulled our location from me. And then you helped keep me awake until the ambulance came."

"Mm-hm."

"You saved my life."

"Looks like it."

She switched to telepathy then, and as much as they had both exhausted themselves last night, to his immense surprise communication between them felt easy and natural. _Magneto's too?_

**Yes.**

_What a wonderboy. Why the chair?_

**Ah… because when Erik… Here, watch.**

_… Oh. My. I didn't realize you owed him that much payback. Now I really don't understand why you stopped me._

**Yes you do. It's complicated, and I know you understand that. I know all about you and Shaw.**

_You know what about me and Shaw?_

**Ow – not so loud. I saw you had feelings for him, and also… Emma, I was inside him when he died. And he was thinking things… about Erik, and others, calling them his 'children,' frustrated that Erik wasn't understanding… and for a moment I caught a flash of a girl I could have sworn was you. Being tortured, the same way Erik had been. Am I right? **

_..._

**Emma?**

_I'm just trying to decide how this is any of your business._

**I only want to understand.**

_You don't know what you want. All right, sugar: relax, and I'll figure it out for you. …_

**Ah-! … Gently. Please.**

_Uh-huh… Oh. I see. You think that if my history is like Erik's, then it's perfectly understandable that I murder people who kill my loved ones. But then, you also think that if my history is like Erik's, then I couldn't possibly love Sebastian at all. Right?_

**Yes! How did you do that? I didn't even know that's what I was thinking.**

_It was all there, in bits and pieces. Maybe you're just not as articulate as you think._

**Well thank you. Anyway yes, that's the question. Will you answer it?**

"A picture's worth a thousand words, Charles. Come in and I'll show you."

* * *

><p>"Emma... tonight is the night."<p>

Shaw stepped around from behind her, carrying two delicate champagne flutes. He handed one to her and sat down, then nodded slowly with a hand to his temple.

After a quick glance at his face to make sure she wasn't misreading the invitation – God help her if she intruded without his permission – she slipped into his mind. It said: **Tonight is the night we've planned for. Our fresh start. Are you ready?**

_! Tonight, sir?_

**Yes – and from now on you may call me Sebastian. **

She smiled and repeated it aloud. "Sebastian."

"Beautiful. Now, Emma... when you do it... there are a few things I _don't_ want you to forget. I'm going to repeat them right now, and I want you to keep this, to keep this conversation with you no matter what, so that you don't ever forget where you came from. I think these are things we should always know."

"Yes." She took a deep breath. "But no details, please... Sebastian. I want to be able to let the hatred go."

"Of course." He set his glass down and leaned forward, out of his chair. Kneeling on the rug in front of her, holding both her hands in his, he looked into her eyes and recounted: "You loved your parents very much, Emma. You were a happy family... until they realized you were different. They didn't understand and they locked you away in a terrible place, a place for mad people... but you knew you weren't mad. Don't cry. Here."

He reached out and wiped her tears away with his bare hand. She pressed it to her cheek and nodded. "Yes. Go on."

"You are _gifted_. I found you. I took you away and taught you to use your gift." He didn't look away from her eyes. "I was a hard teacher, Emma. You spent a lot of nights crying at my feet, saying – maybe believing – that you hated me. But over time, you came to realize that this is where you belong, and that everything I've done has been to help you... to make you stronger... better. And now you are so strong that after tonight, you won't have to remember any of the bad times at all. You can start fresh, a goddess with the whole world before you, with no tears in your past. Well... except these," he amended, laughing softly. "Which I think are tears of happiness. Hm?"

She nodded, sniffling. "Exactly. I couldn't have said it better, s-... Sebastian."

"Is there anything you want to add?"

"Only that... only that along the way I've somehow started to fall in love with you. And I can't wait to forget how twisted that probably is."

"I'd like to think there's nothing twisted about falling in love with me, Emma. Especially since it seems that the problem's mutual." He sat back in his seat and picked up his champagne. "To us, my love. To you. To a fresh start."

"A fresh start."

They clinked glasses and drank, just a sip. Then he snapped his fingers for her attention. "Emma: sleep." She closed her eyes and focused her powers inwards. "Deeper." She didn't even feel him take the glass from her hand and settle her head against the cushions behind her. "Good girl. Go to work."

* * *

><p>TBC.<p>

So now we know (and Charles knows!) why Emma is the nutty supervillain she is.

I think the next chapter will be the last. It'll be Charles and Emma and Erik attempting to reach the proper balance of sorting out their hangups vs just running away from them.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Last chapter!**

* * *

><p>After an extremely long period of silence Erik began to worry. He pushed the door open quietly, half-expecting to find a disaster like both of them gone or Charles disintegrated... but instead, they were facing each other peacefully. Charles was sitting and Emma was lying on her side, and they wore matching blank expressions.<p>

Witnessing someone else's telepathic conversation was so _creepy_ that Erik considered speaking up to break the mood. Before long though, Charles did it himself. "Oh my goodness," he murmured, blinking, coming back to reality slowly. "And it worked?"

"Mm-hm. Best decision I ever made. Can't you do it?"

"Me? Oh, no. I can interfere with memory in a very minor way – you know, forget you heard that, forget what happened yesterday… but anything more and the person tends to turn rather confused and silly. I can't even imagine going in and… wow. Never. Emma, that power is amazing. Do you have any idea how…?" Charles was leaning so far forward he was nearly falling out of his chair. (His _wheel_chair, Erik noticed, and tried to forget.) "You can _erase grudges_. You could singlehandedly bring an end to all strife on the planet. Emma… you could create world peace. I think that's the grooviest mutation I've ever heard of."

Emma shrugged, almost demure. "Actually I've never done it to anyone else, not about something so important. I probably could… but I don't know. They might have to be a telepath – I'm not sure a lesser mind could handle it."

"Mm. Oh-! Oh my god. What if you did it to me?"

"About what? About Erik?"

They were so engrossed in their conversation that they still hadn't noticed him. But mentioning his _name _was the last straw, and he said loudly: "What if you did _what_ about me?"

The telepaths jumped. "Erik." Charles straightened a little and nodded hello, and it hurt far more than Erik was expecting to see the hints of a guard come up.

Emma's eyes and mind moved over him. "Well I certainly couldn't do it _to_ Erik - his grudges are too big a part of who he is, and as stupid as it sounds, he wouldn't want to let go of them." She turned back to Charles. "But as for you... I could, but I'd advise you against it." She frowned, listening, and then answered aloud. "Yes but it was different for me – I knew I could _trust_ Sebastian. So there was no need for- oh." She smiled sweetly. "Sorry, Erik. I'd forgotten you could hear that."

"I hardly needed to."

**Erik.** Charles nudged for his attention. "You and Emma have more in common than you know. And more than she remembers. I wish you would try and make peace."

Despite the plasters on his broken ribs it still hurt to _breathe, _much less to laugh. "You want us all to be friends?"

"That's a little too optimistic, even for me," Charles acknowledged. "But don't make fun – I'm serious. Last night we could all have been killed. That cannot be repeated. All right?"

"Fine," Emma answered immediately. "I got what I wanted, and boy did it feel good – as I'm sure you understand. But I'll make sure I don't want it anymore."

That must mean the _erasing grudges _thing she and Charles had been so excited over. Too bad his mind was as useless as a human's when it came to knowing whether she was telling the truth or not.

**She is,** Charles interrupted his thoughts.

But even with Charles tugging at him he still couldn't tear himself away from Emma's eyes. Her gaze was the same as ever, but what he had _thought _was cool and saucy before was now starting to look more and more like sulky and resentful. Hurt, even.

Perhaps they did have more in common than he'd thought. Shaw was dead, after all. "Fine," he said aloud. "Emma, you don't even have to apologize. Just don't ever come near me again."

She blew him a noisy kiss and he actually _felt _it against his cheek.

Predictably, Charles was fascinated with this trick and began mentally begging her to teach it to him – Erik didn't even have to be telepathic to see that. They lapsed into a long silent conversation.

Erik sighed. He meant to wait patiently until it was over, but instead he soon had to look away, because it was unbearably painful to watch Charles's face bright with excitement and the joy of discovery. Bright and open. That was how Charles had looked at _him _during their magical time at the manor. And clearly he would never be looking that way again.

"Sorry, sorry," Charles called after a while. "We've bored you. It's just it's so much easier not to actually articulate everything; we can have a whole conversation just by-… Erik? Are you all right?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing." He surreptitiously nudged a mirrored cabinet open so that he could check his reflection before turning around. He didn't look too tragic. Beat-up and exhausted, but fine. "Sorry. Go on?"

"So the upshot is: Emma won't come live at the manor, but she's graciously agreed to make herself available if ever I find another telepath who needs training."

"It's the least I can do," she put in, "Considering he saved my life just for funsies last night. I'd be happy to teach what I know to a bunch of mutant brats." Then she laughed, low and dangerous, in Erik's direction. "And I promise I'll be nicer to them than Sebastian was to us."

Erik blinked. "S-… Shaw? To _us?"_

But before he could puzzle that out, Charles spoke up again. "And what about you, my friend? I know that building academies and caring for students is probably less exciting than whatever you've been up to, but... Will you come home?"

Erik swallowed hard. He had expected the invitation, but not so soon and not so blunt. For this he was unprepared. "Come home?"

"Yes. Half of what I've done has been your idea, Erik. And your power is so… visceral. You could reach these children in a way I never can. We need you."

We. He realized he was about to cry, and let his throat work until the danger passed. "You said it yourself: we want different things."

"I know. I know, and I've considered that, but Erik, we can get beyond it." He was leaning forward, his eyes bright. Leaning forward in his _wheelchair._ "Look. You and I can debate our philosophies all we want, and as long as you're not advocating actual immediate violence, I promise I won't silence you."

Perhaps not, but there was now a wall between them; he could never let Charles frolic around freely inside his mind again. And Charles would probably never want to. Their one-of-a-kind intimacy had broken, and whatever else they might develop… would not be it. And Erik knew damn well why.

"Pleeeeease?" Charles whined, clasping his hands. "I meant it when I said I loved you. Not, you know, in a romantic way, but…"

Charles looked like he thought he meant it. And like he thought he was winning, like all it would take was another moment of pretend pouting and Erik would laugh and fall like a house of cards.

And, God help him, Charles was _right._

He was _just _about to nod and seal his fate, resigning himself to a lifetime of regrets, when rescue came from a very unlikely quarter.

_Do you really hate yourself that much? _Emma.

He stared at her. She smiled and offered: _Why don't you and I go off together instead? I'm lonely too – Azazel's not wonderful company, and I don't have the patience for humans or for nice people. What do you think? Oh – and don't worry, I'm shielding you. He can't hear._

He thought it over fast. As powerful as the strange emotional entanglement between him and Charles had been (still was?), the plain truth was that he would be _miserable _around Charles now.

Not that he would do much better around Emma; even on her happy days she had a sadistic streak, she liked to pick through his terrible memories to watch her dead lover, and promises or not he would always worry with some small part of his mind that she was still planning to kill him. But that would be misery of a different kind – misery he could bear.

_Thanks, doll, I'm flattered, _Emma thought at him. _Now, break it to him easy. The poor thing._

Charles was still waiting. Hopeful and confident. Erik looked into his eyes and said, completely truthfully: "I don't deserve you." He pointed to Emma, wincing as the gesture pulled on his bandages. "But I do deserve her."

* * *

><p>The End.<p>

Ok, it ended up a little heavier than I meant to. I sort of planned to have Erik get whisked to safety and that was the end, but then I realized I had little goblins scampering around going: AND THEN WHAT? So I had to write out the hospital stuff too. What do you think of it?

You guys have been great to write so much to me; comments really get me psyched to write more. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


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